Where's the Beach
by HallowRain8587
Summary: Life takes an interesting turn as Harry searches for a career.


**Quiddich League Season 5, Round 1; Chaser 1 – Chaser 2, crochetaway/Shannon's NOTP (Snape/Harry); (colour) sky blue; (object) broken wine glass; (setting) beach; Word count 1320**

 **J.K. Rowling owns the characters, I dream.**

"I don't love you. I've repeatedly told you that I cannot be with you ever," he said quietly. Contrarily the green eyes flashed as the young man ran his fingers through his messy black hair. His anger was palpable and floating just beneath the surface of his seemingly quiet demeanor.

"Why, Harry," Ginny pled, "don't you love me like I love you?" Her anger was rising and the fire of her temper matched the red of her hair. "You were supposed to be mine!" she demanded. "I waited for you."

"No, you didn't wait for me," Harry replied quietly, but firmly. "You waited for the idea of an ideal me. You never wanted me to be just Harry. That's all I ever wanted. Every time you break up with a beau, you come running back to me. I am not here for you and haven't been for years." He looked into her sky-blue eyes and hoped to see understanding there. All he found was anger.

Suddenly she threw the glass of wine she held in her hand at his head. Luckily, he had retained the reflexes of a seeker dodging a bludger and ducked away from its trajectory. Staring at the broken wine glass on the floor in front of the fireplace, he said, "This is an apt representation of our relationship."

She stared at him, not understanding the quiet in the face of her anger. She was totally oblivious to the irony of the situation. "You might as well go, Ginny," Harry told her in an even voice. "I told you there was no other woman in my life. There isn't."

After Ginny left, Harry cleaned up the mess in his kitchen and closed the floo. He changed the wards on 12 Grimmauld Place to allow no one to enter while he was gone. Mentally he made a note to fix them later, but first he had places to go and people to see. Well, one person would be seen.

The sun was setting when he arrived at the beach cottage near Brighton. He was nervous about taking this next step. The day had been so tumultuous, and Harry thought maybe he should have rested at his home instead of travelling right away. He walked up the path from the beach and over the stile to the neat yard surrounded by a stone wall. The thatched roof was neatly packed and hung low over the door. The small windows told the viewer that the house was hundreds of years old. From the outside, it looked to have one room, or two at most, but Harry had learned that in the wizarding world looks were deceiving.

"You're here," a beautiful baritone voice greeted Harry. The obsidian eyes twinkled a welcome not reflected in the voice. It was a statement of fact from the older man. He had never been one to spare useless energy on emotion.

"I am," Harry replied. "You've cut your hair. I like it."

"Well, come on in and tell me how it went this time," the former Professor invited and held the door open wide. "You really aren't good at putting your foot down."

Harry set his small bag on the floor near the door and took off his jacket. Gathering his thoughts, he hung his jacket on a peg and sat down on the bench by the door to remove his sandy boots. "She wasn't happy. You would have thought I had never told her we wouldn't work before."

"How much damage did she do this time?"

"One broken wind glass, a bloody handprint on the pot of floo powder, and a pissed off Kreacher," Harry replied. "All in all. I think I got out of there relatively unscathed."

"Come have some tea," Severus said as he set a cup along with a bottle of brandy on the table in the center of the room.

Harry rose from the bench, shoved his boots under it, and walked slowly across the floor in his stocking feet. He reached out a hand to touch the sleeve of the taller man. "I've missed you."

"You could have come sooner and avoided the drama," the older man replied. "I missed you as well." He put his hand on top of Harry's and leaned in to kiss his lips.

"No, it would have only postponed it." Harry thought a minute then said, "It really is tiresome."

They sat in a comfortable silence that no one would have believed possible years earlier. The older man had purchased his "retirement" cottage out of the savings from his years of teaching during the year when Harry had been out on his "camping trip". Neither had known then what the future would bring.

After the final battle at Hogwarts in 1998, Harry and Hermione had gone back to the Shrieking Shack to see if there was anything that could be done for the fallen Headmaster. Upon finding him alive they apparated him to Hermione's muggle home because they were not certain of the welcome he would receive at St. Mungo's. Hermione found an empty antivenom vial near him in the shack and was able to Accio another from the pocket of his robes. She rendered first aid while Harry acted as her assistant. While everyone else was dealing with the dead, the duo was preventing one more senseless casualty. They shared the caretaking duties in the neat white house while they did double duty helping at Hogwarts and the Burrow. A friendship bond grew between the men which had blossomed into something more.

"How long are you here?" Severus asked. Bringing the young man from his reverie.

"As long as you want me," was the coy reply. "Or, at least most of the time. I have been meeting with McGonagall …"

"Professor McGonagall to you," the former Headmaster emphasized the title. "Anyway, why have you been meeting her?"

"She wants me to take over as Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts." Harry thought a minute, "I'm not certain that is a good career move."

The older man smirked, "Becoming an Auror without taking your N.E.W.T.'s, then dropping that to become a second-string Seeker for the Cannons were such good career moves? Are you serious?"

Without thinking about it Harry replied, "No, I'm Sirius's godson." He laughed at his own joke then added, "I did take my N.E.W.T.'s and passed all with E's and O's. I just did it between careers."

"In the six years since you left school, you've had two career changes. What do you really think you want to do with your life?"

"I could sit out on the beach chairs under an umbrella and pretend I'm Hermione. I could read until winter then go to Florida," Harry again joked.

Severus glared at the younger wizard and said, "Not funny. We both know you would be stir-crazy within six weeks. All they have in Florida are old people. Teaching isn't a bad idea for you, but I don't think I would ever like to go back."

"No, I didn't think so," Harry answered. "That's why I told McGonagall no to the job offer and invested in Malfoy's new Malibu Hotel." He looked quizzically at his partner and said, "So, do you want to spend part of the year in California? I thought I might learn to surf. Besides saying only old people live in Florida is an unfair cliché."

Severus leaned in and kissed Harry soundly. "As they say, any port in a storm. And I might add, any beach in the sunshine. We might consider property in Australia, South Africa and Hawaii if you are serious about surfing."


End file.
